


Depending On Others (too much.)

by FixerRefutation



Series: Ouma Kokichi's Theory of 'Happiness.' [7]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Gen, Kinda, Light Angst, Sick Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-20
Updated: 2018-07-20
Packaged: 2019-06-13 07:24:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15359280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FixerRefutation/pseuds/FixerRefutation
Summary: Maybe there was a chance he could be a hero for once.-Kaito was only going to go to the restroom and cough his lungs out in peace, until he notices Ouma in the back, retching and holding his stomach.





	Depending On Others (too much.)

**Author's Note:**

> Um.
> 
> So. I made this in like 30 minutes with breaks- hope you enjoy?
> 
> And remember- this is Momota’s POV, so some things might not be what it seems.

Kaito always knew he couldn’t help everyone.

 

He couldn’t stop Akamatsu from killing Amami, he couldn’t stop those exisals from getting to her, and he couldn’t even expel this damn disease from his lungs.

 

He felt like a failure of a hero- but what could he do to save someone’s life if he didn’t know who was going to go next? So he focused on trying to save the first two he could reach out to.

(and sometimes, it felt like they were the only two he could keep from slipping through his fingers.)

 

He went to sleep, and dreamed dreams that seemed all too real to be fake.

 

The next day, he relaxed with Shuichi and Harumaki, occasionally excusing himself to go to the bathroom to cough out his lungs.

 

And after dinner, when he left again to partially die in the bathroom, he found Ouma, coughing into the sink, head turned away from the door where Momota stood frozen. The first thought that ran through his head was, _did he infect Ouma too?_ As annoying as the brat was, he didn’t want him to _die._ Ouma’s head was still turned away, still coughing and grabbing at his stomach, almost seeming to retch, he moved quietly out of the bathroom. As much as he wanted to help Ouma too, the brat probably wanted to keep this a secret as much as he wanted his sickness to be one.

 

He returned to the dining hall, coughs subsiding, and when Ouma cheerfully skipped through the doors, he kept his eyes on him.

 

Maybe there was a chance he could be a hero for once.

 

-

 

He invited Ouma to training, too, for some reason. One moment, it was just them fighting back and forth before he asked, and Ouma’s face flipped from teasing and carefree to cold and blank.

And in a second, he changed again, cheerful smiles, arms behind his back.

“Sure! Let’s see how boring this is gonna be, mmkay?”

 

“Boring?! I’ll have you know, I’m the most entertaining person around!”

 

“Nishishi, keep lying to yourself, Momo-chan!”

 

“Why you-!”

 

-

 

Shuichi laughed softly, and Makiroll scoffed slightly at Ouma’s increasingly ridiculous tales, ranging from how Saihara saved him from a rogue band of policemen, or how Harumaki fought off waves of cosplayers at a convention and of how Momota braved thousands of trials to touch a star.

 

A few stories he told had to be censored, but still, the sentiment was..nice, strangely enough.

The little liar still tricked his way out of exercising, and soon enough, so did Shuichi and Harumaki.

-

 

The next day, Kaito dragged himself to breakfast, coughing lightly, covering what little blood he spilled on his jacket with tissues that quickly began soaking up the blood until only a smudge remained. Shuichi waved him over, and he sat where he could see Ouma from the corner of his eye.

 

He seemed to be taking a bite out of some mochi, drinking Panta, and some tea that had so much sugar in it there it might as well should’ve been sugar water.

 

He relaxed. Nothing out of the ordinary. Of course, until he had to go hack his lungs out a bit more. They were probably at his esophagus at this point.

 

Nothing was different as he stood alone at the sink, choking blood alone, until he heard the door open, and a muffled gasp from the doorway. He sharply looked up, blood dripping from his mouth, seeing a amicable smile from Ouma and a horrified Saihara.

 

“W-what the hell, O-ouma?!” He tried to shout, voice raspy. The boy shrugged, seeming to relish in his misery.

 

Shuichi ran to his side, muttering, “what the hell? What the hell? What the _hell?!_ ”

 

Ouma shrugged, enjoying Momota’s betrayed eyes . “I knew something was up when you started being all nice to me, Momo-chan~.”  

 

Shuichi reached over to Ouma, whispering into the boy’s ear until he nods and slings Momota’s arm over his thin shoulders.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”, he growled, annoyed.

 

“I’m _helping_ you, idiot. Get it through your thick skull.”

He tore his arm off of Ouma, a bit woozy from blood loss. “I don’t need your help.” He hissed.

 

Ouma didn’t listen. He never listened. He just grabbed Kaito’s arm and attempted to drag him along. Kaito quieted down for a moment, thinking, and started up again. “Why are you even helping me?”

 

Ouma didn’t even hesitate.

 

“Cause there are people who care about you- are you really sure you’re not losing what little brain cells you have left?” Instead of defending his pride, Kaito pulled out his one trump card. “I saw you basically throwing up yesterday. Aren’t you gonna get help for that too?” He felt Ouma go dead still.

 

_Jackpot._

 

And Ouma continued walking to the dorms.

 

_Or not._

 

He was basically leaning on Ouma for support now, and the guy seemed to be buckling under his weight-

 

..He hadn’t noticed that sickly pale pallor, or those eye bags that decorated the underside of his eyes.

 

“...what’s in it for you?” He couldn’t help but ask while Ouma lockpicked his room.

 

“..a happy saihara-chan.” Was all he would say as he opened the door. “My beloved’s already lost too much, hmm? Now, in the bed!”

 

“Wait, he stood, albeit a little shakily. “Why were you coughing yesterday? Just tell me, and I’ll get in, no questions asked.”

 

Ouma tried pushing him in. He tried luring him in (that Astro cake looked really good, though), tried pranking him in.. he didn’t move.

 

Finally defeated, Ouma sighed dramatically. “Fiiiiiiiine, it all started when I choked on a frog..”

 

“Not true.”

 

“Ate some natto..”

 

“Nope.”

 

“Ate Saihara-chan..”

 

“What does that even mean?”

 

“Ever heard of vore?”

 

“N-never mind then.”

 

“That’s how!”

 

“If you’re not telling me, I’m gonna guess.”

 

“As if you could!”

 

“..you ate too much, which was why you were clutching your stomach. You threw up something, coughing and retching because...hmm..you were trying to throw up more.”

 

“...well, you guessed.” Another dramatic sigh echoed around the room as Kokichi flopped on the couch as if he were a damsel in distress. “But I knew you were going to go in the bathroom all along, which is why I stole a glance while you were leaving and saw the blood!”

 

He leaned back on the couch, looking satisfied. “So I told Saihara-chan to follow me and lo and behold, predictably, you were there!”

 

He stood up and skipped his way over to Kaito’s bedside. “So go ahead and enjoy being doted on by Makiroll and Shumai~! It’ll be like your own personal harem, nishishi!”

 

“W-what? Hey, what, Kokichi? _They’re just friends, I swear!”_ He yelled after Kokichi’s retreating back.

 

-

 

Kokichi leaned against the door. Shuichi rapped his shoulder lightly, gesturing to the door. “Is he..?”

 

“Yeah, don’t worry Shumai, I took great care of him!” Kokichi smiled, and turned away to add another entry in journal #5.

 

**Author's Note:**

> :) 
> 
> >:)*
> 
> What does Ouma’s illness remind you of?


End file.
